Simply Payback
by This Is My Escape
Summary: Damon reaches his limit and pulls away from Elena completely. When caught underneath an annoying piece of holiday tradition, will Elena be willing to prove what he means to her in front everyone? Rated M for smut and language. AU.


**AN:** _For Lizzie and the Author to Author Holiday Fic Exchange. This was her prompt:_

"_MISTLETOE! Damon has reached his limit when it comes to Elena and not accepting her true feelings for him, so he decides to pull away from her COMPLETELY. Avoiding her, ignoring her, making it seem like she never existed. Put some balls back into our favorite vampire. Of course, she notices and hurt as she realizes what she's put him through she attempts to prove to him that she feels the same way, but he's just not buying it. This is where the mistletoe comes in {has to be in there} they end up at a Christmas party somewhere {at a friend's, town function, whatever} and what proves to him that she's serious is that they ended up accidentally under mistletoe and doesn't hesitate to make her feelings known when it's pointed out to them. Smut ensues. M-Mature! _

_A big crowd is a plus, especially if it happens in front of Stefan.__"_

**Side-Note:** _Wrote this before 4x07 aired. Thanks to Katlyn for pre-reading and thank you for the beta work, Mariah! Enjoy, everyone! ~Kate_

* * *

Staring at the ceiling, Damon watches as cold December light spills through the window and onto his bedroom floor. Christmas is coming – less than a week away – and he's more irritated about it than usual.

_I should leave,_ he thinks. _I should just get the hell out of Dodge._ There's nothing left for him in Mystic Falls – nothing and no one to stay for now that Elena has made her choice. With that thought in mind, he sits up and climbs out of bed, striding decisively across the room to his dresser. Yanking open the second drawer, he reaches for a collared shirt, paying no attention to which one or which color. He doesn't give a damn anymore.

He's so done. He is so fucking_ past_ done, with all of it.

Fuck the teenybopper drama and the people who, no matter what, continue to judge him for every little thing that happens, blame him if a plan backfires and never thank him for saving their ungrateful asses on a goddamn daily basis.

Fuck the girl who repeatedly breaks his heart.

Fuck _himself_ for constantly letting her. No more.

After their post Miss Mystic Falls dance went a bust the week before, she'd kissed him, and then – like he should have expected, but had stupidly hoped otherwise – she'd apologized and run for the hills, claiming that she'd made a mistake.

Typical. Elena.

She'd fight her feelings until the very end and that's why he has to call it quits. He's done, he really is. He's avoided her for the last seven days – ignoring her calls, deleting her text messages, and blurring away when she's tried to talk to him – and he realizes that even though it still hurts like a bitch, he's better off just cutting her out.

Pulling on his jeans, Damon stuffs his feet into his boots before heading for the stairs. A sharp intake of breath from his brother's room makes him freeze on the landing, momentarily breaking through his single-minded determination to leave and sending a sharp stab of pain through his heart. _Perfect,_ he grumbles derisively. _Nothing better than to wake up to the sound of sex._ _Guess I'll skip the goodbyes. _Blurring down the stairs, he snatches his keys from the table by the door and opens it with such force that he nearly wrenches it off of the hinges.

The sun sparkles off of the freshly fallen snow, turning his front yard into a winter wonderland. Rolling his eyes, he moves with cautious grace down the icy steps to the winding pathway that leads to the driveway.

He picked the perfect time to go.

Vampires don't do Christmas.

_At least this vampire doesn't. _He's never been one to sit around the Christmas tree, singing carols and drinking eggnog, pretending that it's _A Wonderful fucking Life _and he sure as hell doesn't plan on changing that this year.

_Not_ with a bunch of people who don't appreciate everything he does for them and for this godforsaken town.

Opening the door to his Camaro – the _real _love of his life – he hops in and makes sure the top is up and locked in place. He wants to get to wherever the hell he's going – he doesn't know where that is just yet – without his hair being all wind-fucked.

Speaking of _fucked_, he needs a girl, a distraction. Someone he can compel to be compliant and silent and who _doesn't _remind him of a certain brunette who has…no, who _had_ the ability to make him a lovesick puppy with a single glance from her doe eyes.

He decides to stop at the Grill, knock back a few – and a few more for Ric – and grab an attractive blonde – or maybe he'll switch it up and go for a redhead – but before he has a chance to further lay out his plans, someone snatches the keys from his grasp.

"What the hell?"

Elena's sits in the passenger seat, holding the keys just out of reach despite his attempts to snatch them back. "Damon," she says his name, her voice a soft caress that makes his jaw clench. He doesn't want to hear her pleas, knowing that she's going to beg him to stay. "Don't go."

_As expected,_ he snorts. "Don't care." He cocks his head toward the boardinghouse. "Stefan's waiting for you."

Frowning, Elena begs, "Don't leave. It's Christmas."

"It's a week before Christmas, _Elena_, and you don't get a say in what I do_._" He succeeds in stealing his keys back before pointing to the door that she's leaning against. "Besides I'm not a fan of the holiday. Get out of the car."

"But you…"

"Now," he snaps, cutting her off before she can finish. He knows exactly what she's going to say, exactly what she's going to use against him to try to hook him into getting out of the car with her. He hates the way her brows dip and the way her lips pull downward.

He hates that she makes him care.

His grips the steering wheel tightly, refusing to look at her, as her shoulders sag and she climbs out of the car. Before shutting the door, however, Elena leans in and pins him with her gaze. "Merry Christmas, Damon," she says quietly, shutting the door as he swears softly.

_This is what I need_, he reminds himself, letting out a breath as he puts the key into the ignition and brings the car to life. _Leaving town is exactly what I need_.

* * *

Damon is on the road for all of seventy-two hours before biting the bullet and reluctantly turning around.

_Goddammit. _

He made a promise. He swore to her that he'd never leave her – granted, that had been when he thought she'd stay human, his promise a means to make her feel better, letting her know he'd always be there to protect her – and Damon always kept his promises. Vampire or not, he wouldn't break it.

He couldn't.

That doesn't mean he's going to go back on _his _personal promise, however. He's not letting her fuck with his heart anymore.

He pulls slowly into the freshly shoveled driveway, putting the vehicle into park as he rolls his eyes at the idea of his brother shoveling snow. Every winter Stefan weasels his lazy ass out of it, leaving Damon to do it himself. He nearly busts his ass as he climbs out of the car, his vampiric reflexes saving him at the last second as he grips the Camaro's door handle. "Stefan," he hisses, righting himself and cautiously stepping onto the driveway.

"Damon!"

He stifles a groan upon hearing Elena's voice, watching her blur to his side from the house before meeting her elated gaze. "You're back," she smiles breathlessly, a cloud of fog wafting through the air as she says the words. "You came back."

"Not for you," he lies stepping around her. _Fuck, that was harsh,_ he winces mentally before shaking his head._ Nope. You want her to get the picture. This is how to do it._

"Damon, please," she begs, his heart twisting at the desperation in her voice. "I'm sorry!"

"You're sorry? Why?" he snaps. "For What? For kissing me? For choosing my brother? Not choosing me? What is it _exactly_ that you're sorry for?" he presses, biting off each and every word as it leaves his mouth. "You made your choice; you can't be with Stefan _and_ have me. It doesn't work that way, Elena." _Not anymore._ He refuses to be her plaything to use and abuse as she pleases… "You don't get to play with me like a puppet master entertaining his audience. I've cut the strings. Game over, little girl."

"What if I told you that you were right?" she asks with wide eyes as she steps closer, prompting Damon to counter and back away. "I've been playing you…even though I promised to let you go." A tear slips from her eyes and dammit, he can't handle it when she cries. "I didn't mean to, but I know that I…," she takes a breath and swallows before lifting her head and saying bravely. "I broke up with Stefan."

Damon blinks. "You what?"

She nods eagerly, closing the distance between them as he remains firmly rooted in place. He wonders if this is a cruel joke or a twisted dream his mind has conjured up to torture him, but he waits to see how it plays out.

"I ended it with Stefan," she adds.

_It's always going to be Stefan,_ plays like a mantra in his head. "That's impossible," he mutters, the sound coming out of his mouth in a rough grunt.

"It's not. We broke up three days ago…it was about time we were honest with ourselves and our relationship." She swallows thickly and utters. "There wasn't any trust in it. I can't trust _him_."

He watches her carefully.

"You were right. About a lot of things. There is something going on between the two of us," Elena reveals, holding his gaze.

He holds his ground and keeps his trap shut until she opens hers. "I'm done with him," she insists, reaching up to stroke his face, but he bats her hand away. If she'd still been human, he would have worried that he'd broken her hand, but now he doesn't give a shit. She's a vamp – she can take it. "I can't trust him like I trust you."

"Yeah," he scoffs, turning his back on her. "That's great, Elena."

"Damon… I…"

"No," he shakes his head, whirling around and letting out a feral snarl. _Oh, hell no. _"There's no way I'm going to be your –."

"You wouldn't be a rebound, Damon," she cuts him off, and he cocks a brow, impressed that she knew what he was going to say. "I know you think otherwise after all I've done…what I've continued to do, but it stops now. Okay? It stops. I'm done. I know you think I'm just going to hurt you again but I _won't_; I promise."

Unmoved and unconvinced, he tilts his head, smirking at her dangerously. "We're doing this again? Really? Fool me once..."

"Fine," she sighs, running a hand through her hair. "I'll prove it to you. You'll see."

She disappears before he can tell her to save it for another sap.

He's done.

So fucking done.

* * *

Damon's about to lose his fucking mind. For the last four days, he's been dodging Elena – he's been dodging her for a while now, but the circumstances are completely different this time around. She's taking her vow to prove her feelings to him very seriously in a myriad of ways.

He doesn't believe her, of course. He knows that the moment he gives in, she'll yank her heart away like she always does when he gets a little too close to it. He's the kitten that's constantly teased with the toy mouse, but never gets to enjoy the damn thing for more than five minutes.

"Ric, you'd probably be sliding me a glass of Bourbon right about now," he grumbles to the empty seat beside him as he sits alone at the bar on Christmas Eve.

He thinks about calling Fell to keep him company, but really they only hang out if and when they have the same idea at the same time and he doesn't think of her as anything else other than exactly that, a drinking buddy of convenience. In fact, she's probably on her way to the bar already. He'll have someone to curse the Holidays with soon enough.

Damon takes a sip of his drink as his pocket vibrates. Pulling out his phone, he reads a new text message.

_Send me a pic? I want Santa to know exactly what I want this Christmas. ~E_

He nearly chokes on his bourbon until he gets another message, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

_That was really lame…oh well. No regrets. Operation: Convince You I'm In continues. ~E _

* * *

Fucking Caroline.

Damon knew that he hated her and vice versa. Leave it to Blondie to throw together a last minute holiday get together for the Scooby Gang.

Damon wasn't invited – he'd knocked on the Forbes' front door on Cure business, looking for Liz – but the pissy look on Caroline's face as her mother invites him to stay is too much to resist. Not even the threat of an ambush by an annoyingly stubborn brunette can compel him to leave.

"I'm glad that you decided to stay," Liz smiles with an approving nod, ushering him into the living room as 'Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree' starts to play and instantly makes him question his decision –he despises the song.

"How could I say no to all of the Christmas _festivities?" _he asks with a smirk and a shrug. "So tell me, who's all here?"

"Caroline orchestrated everything," she explains, sipping from a mug of hot chocolate laced liberally with peppermint schnapps. Damon nods politely, even though he'd assumed as much. "After ending things with Tyler, she needed a distraction and this was it." Liz gestures to a dark-haired girl in the corner who is chatting and laughing with Bonnie and it takes Damon a moment to recognize the girl as psycho Pastor Young's daughter. "April came with Matt, Bonnie brought her friend…Atticus Shane, I think his name is, and Elena came with Jeremy."

He clenches his jaw at the mention of her name, offering his favorite Sheriff a disarming wink before going rigid as the bell-like sound of Elena's laughter carries to his ears.

"I'm gonna go grab some Eggnog," he says quickly, darting to the kitchen. He knew she'd be here – of course he did, he isn't an idiot – but now that they are both under the same roof for the first time since her confession, he's not sure about what the hell is going to happen.

"Who invited you?" Caroline jokes with unveiled disgust in her eyes.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," Damon quips with a grin, as he joins her by the stove where she's stirring what appears to be hot chocolate. "You're ruining it."

"Am not!" she protests.

"You are," he insists. "You're going to burn it."

"Will not," she growls as he takes the spoon from her. "Damon! Let me do it! I'm not going to burn it," she snaps, huffing as he waves her arm away. He loves pissing her off. "Go away. Don't you have someone else to annoy?"

"Nope. Today is your day, Barbie," he quips, even though he knows damn well who she's referring to. He just refuses to play the game.

"Damon," a gentle voice murmurs, carrying to his ears from the doorway to the kitchen and drawing his gaze despite his best efforts. Damon's vaguely aware of Caroline rolling her eyes and muttering like 'don't burn the cocoa' but he's too focused on Elena – and what she's wearing – to be certain.

Wearing an off-white dress that cuts off just above her knees, he buries a groan. Taking in the sight of her, the neckline that plunges, it admittedly weakens his resolve. He swallows.

Apparently he's giving her the reaction she wanted because she shakes her hips and the chiffon fabric flows around her. Damn her.

"I'll just leave you two to…yeah," the blonde vampire says, stomping out of the kitchen and leaving him alone with Elena.

_Fan-fucking-tastic. _

She gives him a shy smile and goddamn if his sluggish heart doesn't skip a beat. "Can we talk?" she asks, shifting her weight and fiddling with her fingers.

"You want to talk when 70% of the guests can hear every whispered word," he smirks, looking away from her and down at the stove.

"Yeah, well," she shrugs. "You refuse to answer any of my texts so…"

Damon rolls his eyes. "Drama queen."

Elena bites her lip, taking a hesitant step forward, as if she's afraid he's going to tell her to beat it again, but instead he gives a nod to the cabinets. "I'm a vampire, not an octopus. I could use another pair of hands." She takes a small breath, nodding as hope floods her eyes and fully entering the kitchen and with something like relief etched into her features.

Damon pours the hot chocolate into several mugs and allows Elena to help him, focusing on the simple task instead of the racing of her heart.

"I thought you said you didn't do Christmas."

"I_ don't_," he retorts, flashing his cerulean orbs at her with a crooked smile and enjoying the blush that stains her cheeks as she hastily looks down, pushing a strand of rebellious hair behind her ear. "This is hot cocoa, a mere gesture of kindness. Let's not read too much into it."

They carry the beverages out to the living room, warning the humans that it's hot and popping in a few marshmallows when requested. Elena's in charge of that job. Damon doesn't want people to get used to this as he doesn't plan on doing it again. After everyone is sipping their steaming drink, he leans against the doorframe and Elena does the same with the opposite panel. They share a mutual smile.

Suddenly, someone coughs loudly. A little too loudly…awkwardly…

_Shit._

Damon's stomach drops as he reluctantly follows Matt's subtle-as-a-freight-train gesture to look up, instantly overwhelmed with the desire to rip Blondie's head off.

Mistletoe hangs innocently from the ceiling.

_No. __Oh, hell fucking __no._

"Are you kidd–" he's cut off in a flash of brown hair and soft lips forcefully pressing against his. He's taken aback, literally, as Elena slams him into the doorframe, reminding him of the time she'd nearly pushed him through the wall of the Mystic Grill bathroom when she'd tasted his blood for the first time.

Then he remembers that they're surrounded by all of her judgy so-called friends and waits for her to snap out of whatever the hell is obviously wrong with her, but she doesn't pull away and – even though he'll probably kick himself for it later – he doesn't push her off of him, either.

_Enjoy it while you can, Salvatore__, _he thinks as their audience utters a comical, unified gasp._ You can go back to hating yourself and pretending to hate her later._

Elena stays on her toes as he finally – probably foolishly - returns the kiss, settling his hands on her hips and pulling her closer. Her fingers sink into his hair, her tongue slipping into his mouth until, just as quickly as she initiated the kiss, she pulls away, panting.

_Like clockwork. Commence guilt._

"I'm sorry," she says quietly, straightening her dress before glancing guiltily at their audience. Damon watches as her eyes water and follows her gaze to the new guest who'd apparently arrived as Elena had been shoving her tongue down his throat.

"Hiya, Stef," Damon says, aiming for casual, but sounding hoarse and breathless. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he glances at the berry-red lipstick stained on his skin. "This is so not my color."

"Stefan?" Elena says with wide eyes, speaking to him and him alone, "I…I'm so sorry."

Damon clears his throat – he doesn't need to watch the sob-fest Elena will undoubtedly unleash if he doesn't get the hell out of there. _Just my fucking luck,_ he snips to himself. _Give the guy an inch… _"Well," he smirks to everyone watching. "This has been fun, but the show's over," he drawls. "I'll be going now."

"Damon, wait," she pleads grabbing his bicep. "I'm going with you."

"You're what?" he asks skeptically. How the hell does she think she can fix things with Stefan if she leaves the party with _him?_

"Elena?" Bonnie gasps, shaking her head in shock and disapproval.

"If he's leaving," Elena tells her, slipping her hand into Damon's as he continues to stand like a frozen idiot. "I'm going with him."

"But…_what?" _Caroline chimes in, her voice sounding like a hiss as her wide eyes flit from Damon to Elena.

Damon doesn't say a word, simply watches the brunette that holds onto his arm, watching as she smiles and looks at each of her friends in turn.

"You can't honestly tell me that you're all surprised." Her gaze lands on her ex-boyfriend with reluctance, but she lifts her chin bravely. "You were the one who said that he's good for me, Stefan."

His brother clenches his jaw and nods, keeping silent as Damon's stares at him in speechless wonder.

As Elena tugs Damon out of the living room, he's finally able to speak in a low, disbelieving voice. "He said what?"

"He understands," she replies, remaining silent until they get back to the boarding house.

* * *

Throwing open the door, Elena takes Damon's face in her hands, pulling his mouth to hers. "I want you," she mumbles against his lips and something inside of him, the common sense that has been screaming at him for the better part of their car ride, suddenly snaps.

"You what?" he asks, gripping her wrists and pulling back enough so that he can think. She's got his head spinning and he needs a second to just_ think_.

"I thought kissing you in front of everybody would prove it."

Damon knows Elena's waiting for him to come up with a snarky dismissal but all he can do is admit the truth. As much as he'd like to deny it, nothing about the last twenty minutes fits her usual pattern and it's harder to cling to his doubt and denial. "Good work."

Her eyes are alight with excitement as she grins before pressing her lips against his lets her back him into the nearest wall, knocking a picture frame of an old ancestor askew. _Giving up…giving in. Didn't stand a chance anyway._ "I want you," she repeats breathlessly, the look in her eyes compelling him to believe it. "So much."

Instantly, Damon is thrown back to the place he didn't want to be again, but fuck if it doesn't feel different this time. "What do you plan to do with me once you've got me?" he asks in between her fervent kisses.

Elena pops the first button on his shirt, grinning as enthusiasm dances in her eyes."Anything…everything." Her impatience gets the better of her, and she rips his black shirt off, leaving it in tatters on the floor. "Oops."

"I've got more," Damon assures her, pulling her flush against his body. "Do you remember what I told Bree?" he murmurs against her skin, placing scorching kisses along her collarbone, dragging his tongue back over the path until he hits a sensitive spot, earning a sharp intake of breath from Elena. "Hmm...no?" he snickers when she shakes her head, her eyelids fluttering at the way each kiss is like a little flame on her skin. "Let me remind you."

He speeds her to his bedroom and moves behind her. "God, you look stunning tonight," he whispers into her ear, kissing the back of her neck just as his hand slips between her thighs and caresses the soft skin there.

"I dressed up for you," she admits.

"Awe." He grins, his fingers dancing higher. One of his brows jump at what he finds. "What's this?"

"Wanted z-zero panty lines," she utters, her breath hitching as he cups her bare sex.

"No complaints here," he quips, kissing Elena's jaw as he holds her with one arm wrapped around her thin torso, keeping her steady as he teases her, stroking her clit before sinking one finger inside of her her. His smirk widens as he hears her breath catch in her throat and he adds another finger, each mewl and whimper spurring him on.

"Damon," she moans, reaching up and sliding her hand into his hair and tugging his face to hers. "Please."

"Elena," he grunts against her mouth as she slips her other hand between them, unzipping his jeans and wrapping her fingers around his cock before he has a chance to register to the movement. She turns around and starts working her hand at just the right speed, the right pressure...

Grabbing her hands, not wanting to come before he's inside of her, Damon kisses her hard before lifting her into his arms and carrying her to his bed. Making quick work of her dress, he climbs on top of her and settles between her thighs. When he waits, hovering over her and drinking in the intoxicating sight of her body beneath him, Elena's eyes widen and she begs desperately. "No more teasing."

"Oh, but it's so _fun_," he growls playfully, "and this is simply payback." He enjoys the way her eyes darken, loves the way they roll back as her head hits the pillow as he leans down and takes a nipple between his teeth. A part of him can't believe that they're here after he's been so dead-set against it…

Fuck it. Yes, he can.

He's bat-shit crazy about this girl, and it was only a matter of time before he caved and began singing the same song and verse as he had the last several months of knowing her…loving her.

Damon plays with her, worshiping her body and earning keening, pleasure-filled moans from Elena's lips as he brings her right to the edge. Just before she falls over it, he retreats, his eyes flashing with amusement as she glares at him. "I was right there," she groans.

"Anticipation is half of the fun."

"Cocky."

"There's a shock." She sits up, wrapping her legs around his waist and kisses him, nibbling on his lip as she grinds herself against him. "Minx," he pants, pressing his forehead to hers as he gently pushes her back down into the mattress. "You are a _minx_."

Elena giggles, her chocolate eyes mischievous as she closes her mouth over his and trails her finger down his toned chest. "Need you now," she breathes between kisses.

A low growl escapes him and she helps him out of his jeans. She marvels at the sight of him and he chuckles roughly, settling himself between her legs. "I meant it when I said I have moves you've never seen."

"Prove it," she challenges.

She's wet and ready and as he slides inside of her, Damon's gaze falls to her perfect lips as they form an 'O' of surprise and pleasure. He groans at the perfection of their connection, at how well they fit together. "Elena..."

"I know," she answers breathlessly, reaching up to his caress the side of his face. "Move, Damon. Please." The need in her voice is enough to make him climax then and there but he wants to make this last.

"I'm going to rock your world."

He grins deviously as recognition of his words to Bree during their time-out in Georgia lights up Elena's eyes. He laces his fingers with hers, placing her hands above her head and begins to move with powerful grace, relishing in the way she meets each and every thrust.

"You feel amazing," she gets out, her voice a weak tremble.

He knows because she feels the same. "Jesus, Elena." He never thought he'd be able to do this with her…never thought she'd want to do this with him. But here she is…here they are.

Her hands squeeze his and she lifts her head off of the pillow. Damon leans down, crushing her mouth with his in a heated kiss, tracing her lips with his tongue and picking up the pace.

Elena shuts her eyes tightly. "Oh, god..."

"I know," he says, his voice strained. She's heaven and finally his. They move together until he feels her tighten around him, squeezing him and propelling him to their mutual end right by her side.

* * *

"Mmm," Elena murmurs into his ear as his fingers glide across the piano keys, playing his favorite holiday piece. He gave into the holidays just as he gave into the woman standing behind him with her arms wrapped around his neck, clad in only a blue button-up that she stole from his closet. "I didn't know you could play."

"Surprise," he chuckles, continuing the song. "I played _you_ pretty well last night, too, if my memory serves me correctly."

Elena laughs, the sound infectious and he's addicted – he loves the way her skin takes on a rosy glow when he says something to set her off. She rolls her eyes, shoving his shoulder lightheartedly as she sits next to him on the bench. "It's a beautiful song."

"A classic," he agrees. "I've tweaked it a bit. One of my few holiday favorites."

"Mine too." She rests her head on his shoulder and starts whispering the lyrics as he keeps playing. "Hark hallow bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say throw cares away…"

"Not bad," he smirks, turning to his head to kiss her temple. "Little pitchy, but…"

"Whatever," she giggles before falling silent as he finishes the song. As the echo of the final note fades, Elena sighs. "I've been lying to myself…for a long time."

He takes a breath to speak, but she gives him a look of warning. He nods, letting her know that he'll let her get it out – even though he's already forgiven her.

"I've been lying about my feelings for you. I said that I didn't, or that I couldn't let myself because I was worried about what that'd say about me." She swallows thickly, looking up at him. "You were right. I'm a lot like you, even more so than I originally thought, or thought I'd like to admit…I'm sorry I made you think that was a bad thing."

She reaches up and kisses him. "It's not, it's just…strange." She murmurs, "You've been here all along and only now am I realizing what you are to me."

"And what's that?" he asks carefully, watching her like a hawk, unable to tear his gaze away from the welcoming warmth of her smile. "What'd I do to make you realize what I mean to you?"

"You left." His heartstrings yank painfully. "You promised me you wouldn't ever do that again, but when you did… when I had to face the reality of living without you," Elena says hoarsely, her eyes shining with tears. "It terrified me." She exhales shakily, looking down at her trembling hands, before apparently gaining enough courage to meet his eye as she says, "Damon, I'm in love with you. I have been for a long time."

He sits back, away from the keys but doesn't move away from her. He strokes his hand over her hair and then wraps his arms around her, pulling her to him. He kisses her once, twice before nipping at her ear. "I'm glad you finally realized it." Giving her a genuine smile as he says, "I love you too."

* * *

_AN: Thank you for reading and please review! ~Kate_


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